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by amorluzymelodia



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8123335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: Request: could I request an oneshot where the reader just finished a stressful hunt and comes back, and the boys notice it was kinda hard and they just make her feel home again?





	

To say you were tired was a major understatement. You felt like you’d been going non-stop for weeks on end. Going from hunt to hunt, sleeping in dingy motels or the backseat of your car and eating crappy fast food was seriously getting old. You missed the Bunker, your room, your memory foam mattress—that Dean had practically forced you to buy—and food that didn’t taste like it was made in a dirty dishwasher. But most of all, you missed your boys. Sam and Dean had accepted you as part of their messed up little family a few years ago when you met on a vampire hunt. You’d helped them clear out the nest in a matter of minutes and they’d taken you out for a celebratory beer afterwards. And the rest was history. 

You’d just finished up your fourth hunt in the span of two weeks and you were utterly exhausted. The last three hunts had consisted of a ghoul, a pair of ghostly twin boys, and a crossroads demon collecting early. And on top of that you’d been driving for hours on end, only stopping to gas up and sleep for about an hour at a time, and even then it wasn’t particularly restful. The last hunt had taken it out of you, completely. You’d been hunting what you thought was a djinn but had turned out to be something called a Black Annis, a witch with blue skin that preyed on children. Any hunt involving children was taxing and emotional but this one was especially difficult. You had been too slow, hesitated at the last moment and one of the children the witch was holding captive had died. The little girl couldn’t have been more than seven and you’d had to tell her parents what had happened; that you couldn’t save her, and it destroyed you. 

Usually the drive home after a hunt was peaceful, a time to listen to music, and enjoy the scenery of whatever state you were driving through but now all you wanted to do was find the closest dive bar and drink until you blacked out. But you had to get back to the bunker, Sam and Dean were expecting you. So you drove, and drove, ignoring the tears threatening to spill and the waves of nausea that ripped through you when you thought of that little girl. 

When you pulled into the bunker you were deeply exhausted and on the verge of a breakdown. You pulled your duffle out of the trunk and trudged your way into the Men of Letter’s war room, where Sam was sitting on his laptop. When you entered he looked up at you and raised his eyebrows. 

“Hey there, kiddo. How’d the hunt go?” you knew he was asking out of politeness, it was probably clear from your face that it didn’t go well at all. You just shook your head and sighed. 

“We got any whiskey?” you asked tiredly and Sam nodded, hooking a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen. You headed that way and pulled a bottle out of the pantry, forgoing a glass and just taking the whole bottle with you to your room. You dropped your duffle near the door and collapsed on the bed, taking a long pull from the bottle of whiskey, barely reacting as the liquid slid down your throat. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there, staring at the wall before you fell backwards onto the soft mattress, ready to pass out for the next week. However, the moment you closed your eyes an image of the dead little girl from the hunt invaded your mind and you bolted up, breathing heavily, tears streaming down your face. Giving up on sleep completely you forced yourself up and made your way to the library, hoping to bury yourself in research or whatever else the Men of Letters had lying around. When you got there you found Dean reading what looked like a vintage gentlemen’s magazine. He looked up when you entered the room. 

“Well you look like shit,” Dean said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Wow you really know how to make a girl feel loved, don’t you Winchester?” you collapsed into the nearest chair and propped your feet up on the table, taking another pull from the bottle. Dean raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Guessing the hunt didn’t go well, then?” he said and you snorted. 

“Understatement of the century.” You muttered and Dean looked at you sympathetically. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly and you met his gaze, feeling the tears well up again. 

You knew you needed to talk about what had happened, needed to vent and scream and cry and curse but…something stopped you. You were a hunter, and a damn good one. But even the best hunters fell victim the number one rule in hunting: you can’t save everyone. You’d been doing this long enough that you knew that was the reality of hunting, but that didn’t make it any easier. Tears filled your eyes and you opened your mouth to speak but your voice caught in your throat. 

“I…” you broke off and Dean’s gaze softened. “I can’t.” 

Dean nodded and patted your knee softly. “Well, why don’t you go take a hot shower, and we’ll fire up the Netflix and make some grub, just have an easy night in? Sound good?” 

You let out a small smile and nodded, grateful that he wasn’t forcing you to talk. You headed back to your room and grabbed your toiletry bag and made your way to the bathroom. The shower felt incredible, the hot water relaxing your knotted muscles and washing off the grime of hunting. By the time you got to the viewing room, dressed in comfy sweats and one of Dean’s shirts, you at least felt like a person again. Dean had a few blankets laid out on the couch, and a bowl of popcorn sitting next to a plate of sandwiches. Sam was sprawled out on the couch with a beer in his hand, and Dean was popping a dvd into the player. 

“I picked Up, I hope that’s okay.” He said and you nodded. 

You knew he picked a feel-good movie to take your mind off the hunt and you were grateful when he fast forwarded through the sadder scenes at the beginning, getting straight to the part where Carl starts tying balloons to his house. At some point during the movie you ended up cuddled against Sam’s side and he slung his arm around you, rubbing calming circles on your shoulder. By the end of the movie you were feeling somewhat better and had almost forgotten about the hunt. You were dozing against Sam’s side when the movie ended and Dean started cleaning up the food and empty beer bottles. 

“Get her to bed,” he whispered as Sam slung his arms underneath you and lifted you, trying not to jostle you. “I’ll clean up in here.” 

Sam carried you back to your room and as he set you on the bed and pulled the covers over you he noticed the half empty bottle of whiskey next to your bed and sighed sadly, looking down at you sleeping. He leaned down at kissed your forehead and you stirred. 

“Sam?” you sighed and he smiled, brushing the hair from your face. 

“Hey kiddo, you just sleep okay? Take as long as you need.” 

“Love you, Sammy.” You murmured and he smiled. 

“Yeah you too, Y/N.” he said softly, but you were already asleep again. He flipped off the light but left your door ajar before heading back to the viewing room to help Dean. 

You on the other hand were quickly slipping from a peaceful doze into a flash of nightmares. The face of the little girl from the last hunt flooded your mind, along with the faces of everyone else you’d failed to save, or the monsters that had gotten the drop on you throughout the years. You woke up in a cold sweat, your heart beating fast and your breathing rapid. Even awake the faces still taunted you and you pulled your knees to your chest, gripping your hair in both hands, trying not to hyperventilate. Finally, after a few long minutes of trying to control yourself you forced yourself to get up and walk around. Eventually you made your way to Dean’s door. The light was off so you assumed he was asleep but you entered the room anyway. Sure enough he was laying on his stomach in bed and you pulled back the covers and slid in beside him. He stirred and you saw his arm move under the pillow, probably reaching for his gun so you spoke quickly. 

“It’s just me.” 

“Y/N?” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up. “You okay?” 

You stared at him for a long moment, tears flowing freely now, before shaking your head. “There was a little girl…” you choked but continued. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t save her, Dean. She was only seven and now…now she’s dead. Because of me.” 

Dean sat up and took your face in his hands, wiping the tears away softly. “Hey, hey. You listen to me, Y/N. This is not your fault, okay? You can’t save everyone, sweetheart, believe me. You did the best you could, I know you did. But you gotta stop beating yourself up about this, Y/N. You’ll drive yourself insane.” 

You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath. “Can—can I sleep in here tonight?” you were almost embarrassed to ask but Dean didn’t hesitate before nodding. 

“Of course, kiddo.” He said and you laid down next to him, huddling up to his side. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hand along your spine in a calming motion and you found yourself drifting off, and this time, you slept without nightmares. 

When you woke up it was to the smell of pancakes and sizzling bacon. You padded your way to the kitchen where Dean was flipping the last of a huge stack of pancakes onto a plate and Sam was sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper. They smiled at you when you walked in. 

“Hey there, how you feeling?” Sam asked kindly and you shrugged. 

“Been better.” You admitted and Sam smiled sadly. 

“Soups on!” Dean called and placed the pancakes in front of you while Sam handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Two sugars right?” he said and you nodded, honored that he remembered. 

The three of you dug into the pancakes and bacon and joked around for a bit before all the food was gone and you leaned back in your chair. 

“I’ll tell you what, Dean you ever get out of hunting, you open up a diner or something. Seriously man that was incredible.” 

“Well thanks, Y/N.” Dean smiled at you. He gave Sam a look and they leaned forward with meaningful looks on their faces. 

“Look, Y/N.” Sam said. “Dean told me what happened on the hunt.” You pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, knowing they wanted to help but not wanting to talk about this anymore. 

“I know it’s tough when you lose someone, kiddo.” Dean said. “Believe me, I know. But you’re one of the strongest, best hunters I know, and I know you can get through this.” “If I’m one of the best hunters you know, then why is that little girl dead?” you demanded. 

“Because it doesn’t matter how good of a hunter you are, sometimes the monsters get the upper hand.” Sam said. “Doesn’t mean you didn’t do your best, just proves that the world is a shitty place. But, Y/N, you’re still an amazing person and a damn good hunter. And we’ll keep telling you that until you believe it.” 

You were crying again, but this time from being so touched at Sam’s words. Dean patted your hand and smiled at you kindly. 

“We love you, kiddo.” He said. “And you’ll always have a home here, okay? We’re your family and we love you.” 

You smiled shakily and took both of their hands, grateful that you had your boys, and a home here with them.


End file.
